6: In Which She is the Cat that Gets All the Cream (1/2)

6: In Which She is the Cat that Gets All the Cream

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Dinner was horrible.

Of course, there were worse things in the world than having my best friend in the whole world giving me the silent treatment for no reason whatsoever, my crush’s fiancée giving me sly looks over the main course and a freaking sex god sitting beside me with the most magical fingers imaginable.

Seating arrangements were nonexistent at these evening dinners at the palace, which was how I found myself beside Nikolai, his fingers up the hem of my dress under the table while he innocently conversed with one of Inga’s older brothers on his right.

I couldn’t eat; couldn’t even think. Not when he was just discovering that, like the plebeian I was, I hadn’t worn any underwear to dinner.

Parting my thighs for him, I felt his fingers halt when he encountered no barrier at the V of my legs. Giddy with excitement, I could’ve cried with relief when he slowly began to move, his fingers blazing a trail of heat to my clit peeking through the folds of my pussylips.

“Inga mentioned you do a little acting,” a voice chirped from my left side.

I jerked my head in that direction, totally horrified. Inga’s mother was going to talk to me while Nikolai started finger-fucking me?

“Um, y-yes. I do, Mrs. Antonova,” I shakily replied, worrying my lower lip when I felt Nikolai’s forefinger circle my clit.

I glanced in his direction, astonished that he was discussing Ruslavia’s practically nonexistent healthcare with Inga’s brother – Sergei, I remembered – while his hand was up my dress.

“Please, dear,” Inga’s mother began, “it’s Ellen.”

I flashed her a real smile, simultaneously jolting in my seat when my clit was worked by his fingers in a way that instantly made me see double. “God, that’s nice…of you,” I added in a high-pitched voice, sure that I was now the twin sister of a freaking cross-eyed tomato. “It’s very nice of you to let me, uh, call you by your first name.”

Ellen gave me a weird look. “Are you all right, dear?”

“I’m great,” I said quickly, giving my untouched Spanish roast chicken a wistful look. Nikolai chose that exact moment to drive a finger inside me, finding me soaking. My hand flew to my mouth, smothering my cry. “I’m sorry,” I squeaked, catching Inga’s knowing eye from across the table. “I can’t… I don’t feel too well. Excuse me.”

I stuck a hand under the table and wrenched Nikolai’s away from me, grabbing my napkin from my lap and setting it on the table before unsteadily getting to my feet and beating a hasty retreat. I wasn’t about to climax in front of my father – and that was a given where Nikolai was involved. It wasn’t proper etiquette to leave the table before the king allowed you to, so I was more than overjoyed that he was still out of the country.

The castle was ancient; marble staircases, gaudy décor and stained glass windows. A guard stood sentry at the end of each hall, and the number of men was testament to just how seriously royal security was taken. When I finally stumbled through the door of my suite, I could’ve collapsed from my overwhelming need for some kind of clitoral stimulation, which sounded so unappealingly scientific in my head but made me crave Nikolai’s touch that much more.

My wristwatch informed me that it wasn’t even eight yet.

How fucking unlucky, I thought with frustration, kicking my pumps off and flopping onto the couch. I shut my eyes.

How the hell was I supposed to busy myself until eleven? I was already boiling hot and getting myself off was totally out of the question. For starters, I’d never perfected the art of self-pleasure, much to Savita’s horror. Every birthday, she gave me a new dildo or vibrator, depending on what was the rage at that moment.

Look at you, O, my killjoy conscience mocked. You're Nikolai’s booty call. What happened to women empowerment? What happened to dignity and pride? What happened to your freaking plan?

Honestly, that voice in my head belonged to a tweed-wearing spinster with fifty tabby cats. She had no idea what it felt like to physically burn with desire. Hell, I was only just beginning to understand this feeling. It made me crazy to know that this particular reaction was probably completely one-sided. For all I knew, Nikolai made pit-stops at all the bridesmaids’ suites every night. The things he said were probably generic panty-incinerators.

Then again, I didn’t care.

“You’re running away from me again?”

My eyes flew open. “What are you, the Pink Panther?” I teased, looking up at Nikolai. “How’d you get in here without me hearing?”

“Get up,” he ordered, ignoring my question. I didn’t miss the heat in his sparkling blue eyes. How could I, when it was directed right at me?

He looked edible in his charcoal-grey suit with the first few buttons of his navy-blue shirt unbuttoned. Fine swirls of hair peeked out of it, at least a shade darker than the hair on his head.

“It’s not eleven yet,” I whispered, licking my lower lip.

He rolled his eyes. “Who needs a reminder to fuck you when you're walking around asking for it?”

I swallowed, slowly getting to my feet. “No, Nikolai. This would be asking for it,” I murmured, pulling my hair out of its ponytail. I shook my hair out. “May I have your cock inside me because it’s all I’ve been able to think about since this morning?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Yes, I suppose that could certainly be described as a request.” He approached me and I backed away. He paused, quirking a brow. “No, you're not going to run away now,” he rasped, cupping himself through the fabric of his pants.

“I’m not running,” I scoffed, turning around. “You have to unzip me, Your Highness.”

He was right behind me in a flash, his hands around my waist. “Don’t call me that, pussycat,” he whispered into my ear before nibbling at my earlobe, “or I just might have to punish you.”

I shivered at the thought, instinctively leaning back into him. His arousal dug into my lower back, heavy with the promise of a really unbelievable fucking. I was so busy imagining it inside me that I didn’t notice that he’d unzipped my dress until I felt cool air nipping at my back. Nikolai’s breathing was erratic as he gently tugged it down the swell of my ass, actually following the descent of the silk until he was on his knees at my bare feet.

“What are you…doing?” I breathed, although I knew what his lips on my calves meant.

“Don’t…move,” he ground out, his slick tongue running up my tense muscles.

But I couldn’t stop the shuddering. I was completely naked in front of him and I wasn’t the least bit insecure. I knew that what I was doing was considered slutty – after all, I’d only really known the guy a couple of days – but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted this.

“I’ve been thinking about this ass,” he said softly, gripping my hips as he placed a kiss on both butt cheeks. “Dreaming about it, in fact. This is one of those rare moments where my imagination was a stick drawing and reality is a fucking Picasso.”

Oh, God.

Did he have to be so…verbally gifted?

“Spread your legs, baby.”

“I thought you told me not to move.”

He smacked my ass, making me jump and involuntarily do as he’d bid me to. “I dare you to be sarcastic again, Ophelia. In fact, I dare you to speak again.”

I couldn’t see his face but I could tell he was smiling, the infuriating little bastard. My next sarcastic retort died on my lips when his fingers danced around my sex, dipping inside to find me wet. If he bothered to investigate, he’d find that my breasts were heavy with need, the dusky nipples rock-hard.

Nikolai groaned and I felt the whoosh of air his big body made as he shot to his feet to spin me around in his arms. “Kiss me,” he snarled, burning holes in my sides with his searing hands.

I bowed into him, pulling myself onto my toes and cupping the back of his head. He lowered his mouth and I captured it, moaning low in my throat when his lips parted and I tasted the wine on his breath. Before I could deepen the kiss, he broke apart from me, panting for air.

I stumbled backwards, dizzy and unstable. I was quickly beginning to realise that kissing this guy was like downing a dozen consecutive shots of tequila.

“Remember when I said someone needed to fuck you docile?” Nikolai was unbuckling his belt, the mundane act practically making me pant.

“Huh,” was my noncommittal response, before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to speak.

“Get on your knees.”

Thank God I’m not docile, I thought, sinking to my knees with no questions asked – which was an act of docility in itself. Talk about contradictions.

“Pussycat,” Nikolai said huskily, “you look good on your knees.” He plonked himself down on the couch, his pants already bunched around his narrow hips. He hungrily observed me. “Yes. Kneeling is a good look for you.”

I inched my way forward until I was kneeling between his legs. Placing a sweaty palm on his powerful thighs, I kept my eyes on the tent of his satin boxers. He was languidly stroking himself through the silk, his icy-blue eyes stormy with lust.

“I want it,” I whimpered, my voice totally unrecognisable. Without waiting for an affirmative, I tipped myself forward and hooked my fingers in the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. He slightly lifted himself off the couch, allowing me to get his pants down as well.

Like a weightwatcher taunted by a T-bone steak, I devoured Nikolai’s erect cock. It saluted me at a proud forty-five-degree angle from his well-groomed tuft of dark pubic hair, the broad head slick with pre-cum. But a second later, I stared at it in disappointment.

“Where’s your piercing?” I pouted.

He ignored my question.

“Who do you want?” Nikolai pressed, pushing me to wonder if he was seriously disturbed by my calling him Mikhail six fucking years ago.

Men and their egos.

“You, Nikolai,” I obliged, stroking the corded muscles of his thighs. “I only want you.” I bent and kissed the inside of his thigh, my lips tickled by the faint wisps of his hair. “Where’s your piercing?”

He jerked. “I don’t want to break your pretty little teeth.” He let out a low groan when I licked my way up his thigh. “That’s what would happen if I have it on when I fuck your mouth. Argh, fuck.”

I nipped at his skin, amazed that this giant was reduced to a quivering mass of tension by my touch.

“Well, part of your allure was that piercing,” I teased, raising my head. “This” – I flicked the head of his cock, drawing another curse from his mouth – “isn’t what I ordered on eBay.”

“You are such a fucking tease, kotik,” he bit out, narrowing his eyes at me. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now.”

Common sense kicked in. “Wait. Just so you know, I’m clean – not that you cared when your mouth was around my clit,” I ventured, receiving a smirk for my sarcasm. “What I need to know is if you’re clean. You yourself said you're making the rounds at this wedding so I have to, you know, assume that that’s your lifestyle.”

His easygoing expression faded into irritation. “I’m not some disease-riddled playboy, Ophelia,” he stated through clenched teeth, leaning so close that I could see the sheen of perspiration above his lips. “I don’t appreciate the – Oh, fuck!”

Kissing the tip of his cock effectively cut off his little you-offended-me rant. Before he could stop me, I gripped the base of his shaft, reared back and ran my tongue up his throbbing shaft, finishing up by sucking on the weeping head. I was so unbelievably aroused by his taste, by the tiny jerking motions of his huge body, by the pulsating of his erection – by him.

I pulled back, my breathing ragged. Nikolai’s face was a picture of beautiful, masculine arousal but the way his cock visibly pulsated… Well, it was far from beautiful; it was angry.

“Don’t do that again,” Nikolai whispered, “unless you plan on taking it all.”

“I plan on taking it all.” I dipped my head and licked the tiny bead of moisture leaking from his crown.

He shuddered, leaning back. “I’m going to come on your beautiful face and on your beautiful fucking tits, pussycat.”

“Okay.” I kissed his cock.

“Then I’m going to slide myself into that beautiful cunt of yours,” he rasped, and I knew that his words were turning him on as much as they were to me. The proof was in his hardness. “I bet you haven’t been fucking much. I bet you're still as tight as a virgin. You’re the tightest I’ve ever had.”

Heat rocketed through my entire being as I forced myself not to rub my clit. Did he know that no other man had measured up to him?

I sincerely hope not, since that thought is so freaking pathetic.

“Suck me, baby,” Nikolai said hoarsely. “Take all of me.”

He cupped the back of my head with one hand, keeping me where he wanted me, and placed the other around his beating shaft. I settled my hand on his, squeezing, and traced the seam of my lips with the tip of his cock, back and forth until he made a growl of frustration.

Oh, he wanted in. He wanted to feel my tongue swirl around his length; feel my teeth lightly graze his veins. I wanted him inside me.

I parted my lips and he slid inside me, sighing with pleasure. I hummed my approval, the vibrations turning that satisfied sigh to a muffled curse.